Go Down On Me
by But I'm No Mercury
Summary: The title says it all, really. Although the story goes a bit deeper than that. Friends with benefits. Lines blur. AU Future!fic. Faberry. I promise this won't be too disappointing.


**A/N: So, hi. I've been writing this on and off and had the idea for a little longer, but was contemplating even doing it. But then Faberry week came along and I didn't wanna over do the whole 'friends with benefits' thing, (notice how I'm a few weeks late) but I finished it and I'm posting it. I even gave it a nice, to the point title to draw you in. Everyone loves a little oral every once and awhile.**

**Also, don't be afraid to talk to me when it comes to the smut or even just tiny mistakes. I like to think I do a good enough job, but feel free to tell me otherwise. It encourages me to get better, and write more things.**

**This story takes place after everyone has graduated from both high school AND college, and going about in their careers. We're moving forward guys. **

**The title comes from a P!ATD song, 'New Perspective' and you don't neccesarily have to listen to it, but feel free—I like it enough. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor am I very fond of it as of late. **

* * *

"You're an ass."

"You have a nice ass."

"Flattery will get you no where, Quinn Fabray," Rachel scolded. The blonde simply sighed where she lay, blankets covering anything she wouldn't want her mother to see. The lamp beside Rachel's bed was dimmed, giving her skin an orange-ish glow. She was faintly aware of the sounds of New York buzzing around her ears, but they were still ringing from Rachel's earlier shrieking to truly tell.

She turned her head to look at the huffy brunette who had been muttering about a simple shot in the dark.

"You never made any specific rules against—"

"I thought it would be implied that I wouldn't enjoy that." Rachel stressed, her nose scrunched and her face obviously more flushed than before.

Quinn smiled, lifting herself up on her elbows, kissing Rachel's shoulder. "I still made you scream, Berry, so what's the difference?" She whispered with a smile, moving her lips down towards a damp collar bone.

"You're despicable." Rachel breathed. Quinn gave a throaty chuckle, capturing her lips. They kissed slowly, taking their time as if this wasn't meant to be a quickie before Santana came back with dinner. They broke apart with Quinn tugging teasingly at her bottom lip, only releasing to speak.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Please tell me the rest of your less than typical fetishes before we continue."

"Whats the point of experimenting if you can't explore?" Quinn asked, behind her impish grin and pending giggles.

"I believe you access the benefits of this friendship enough." Rachel said with a following huff of annoyance. She rolled over in her spot on the bed, just to escape Quinn's smug humor.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," Quinn began kissing her neck, and smiling at the vibration coming from the girl's throat. The blonde was feeling almost too jovial after tonights activities. It was one of their more playful encounters. Quinn stopped her kissing, getting a pout from the already cross girl. Quinn hummed, "I mean really, all I did was lick your—"

"Quinn Fabray!" Rachel unconsciously gripped her own behind, looking completely scandalized as Quinn laughed.

Until they heard the front door slam open.

"I GOT SUBS BITCHES!"

/

What the two of them had wasn't really much of anything, but it was everything at the same time. It wasn't the most difficult set up to have in world, considering the fact that they both got mind numbing sex out of it. Including the fact that they had also established a close friendship outside of the bed room. They both enjoyed the company.

Rachel quickly dressed, giggling along with Quinn as the two shared light nips and kisses.

"Are you staying for subs?" Rachel asked, when Quinn ripped her lips away to get her dress over her head.

"I would, but St. James will be all over me if I'm late for another audition." She rolled her eyes, thinking of how her curly headed agent was probably angrily pacing around her apartment that she regretted giving him a key to.

Rachel gasped, "Quinn! You know how important it is to always be punctual when it comes to something as significant as an audition. Although, Jesse can be a tad over bearing—"

"Understatement of the year." Quinn quipped, pulling on her boots, as Rachel stood fully dressed with hands on her hips.

"Nonetheless," Rachel stressed, "I refuse to be apart of your lolly gagging, like some of your old delinquent friends."

Quinn hummed, standing up and wrapping her arms around Rachel's hips, pulling her close. "You talk way too much, Berry." She kissed her jaw once, then twice, then once more to make her squirm in her arms.

Rachel whimpered, but remembered the reason they were clothed in the first place. "S-Santana..." She weakly protested, once again trying to remember why they had clothes on, when Quinn began to use her teeth.

"Don't remind me, it was but a two time thing." Quinn squeezed her ass with a teasing smirk. Rachel groaned, attaching their lips, only to be interrupted by Quinn's vibrating phone.

"Q-Quinn?"

"That's my name, please wear me out."

"While I do appreciate your stamina, I wouldn't l-like—shit, right there—I...Jesse..."

Quinn huffed, giving her one last peck, before grabbing her coat. "Fine, I'll go meet the spoiled little agent."

They made it out of Rachel's room with smiles adorning both their faces, being met with a skeptical Santana shoving food into her mouth. Quinn muttered a tiny good bye and Santana barely managed a wave before he door was shut.

"What the hell where you two doing in there?" Santana asked, eyeing Rachel's haphazard attire. Rachel simply grabbed her vegetarian sub and took a bite.

"Quinn likes to stall." She shrugged.

/

They weren't dating—obviously. They still went out and talked to eachother as if they'd never seen the other naked (orgasm even) or as if they didn't care. They used the other, considering they were both single and tended to have shitty relationships. They'd often go out for coffee and then make out on the way home. They'd meet eachother after an audition and fuck in the bathroom.

They'd watch a movie, dry hump and then cuddle.

Rachel liked the fact that Quinn was a cuddler. She liked that Quinn left the light on when they did what they did. Her last boyfriend had made her keep it off, claiming that the pink of her room was distracting—something that Rachel naively bought at the time—but not Quinn. Quinn liked to watch her—stare her down with those golden eyes. Those long, perfectly manicured fingers made her see stars of the same color. That mouth had her clenching, her respire nothing but a staccato. Rachel loved everything about Quinn, but to a point.

Not quite to a point of no return. A point of safety—a checkpoint.

"You're both dumbasses," Santana rolled her eyes. She hated being next to their little Fabray-Berry sexual tension bubble while they cuddled and giggled. But dammit if she had anything better to do on a Friday night. "I swear, why don't you two just make out—preferably in Kurt's room."

"You know how Kurt feels about privacy." Rachel scolded the teasing girl, who simply stuck her tongue out. Classy.

Quinn hugged Rachel to her tighter, nuzzling her neck, "And you have a way better bed."

"Fucking honestly, you never told me where you got that thing," Santana wondered. "Swear to god my back was sweet mush for a week." Her eyes all but rolled back in her head.

Quinn tensed, narrowing her eyes, "You sleep together often?" The Latina did nothing but snort, and Quinn stood up, pulling Rachel along with her.

They reached Rachel's room and Quinn shut the door after all but shoving the smaller girl inside. Rachel looked almost frightened by how rough Quinn was being, but the blonde simply stared stoically at her, repeating her question.

This time, Rachel sighed, "I simply don't appreciate having a crabby roommate with stiff muscles." She shrugged weakly, knowing how cranky the Latina had been when she had been sleeping on the couch her first few weeks there.

"Kiss me." Rachel looked at Quinn questionably. Her eyes had turned dark but they weren't lustful—angry more than anything. Her face was blank, but Rachel knew it was more than that. Quinn was holding something in. "Please..."

Rachel pressed a soft kiss to Quinn's lips, only to be yanked forward. The brunette squeaked, albeit glad that Quinn had come to her senses, letting the blonde kiss her neck. She nipped and sucked harshly, eliciting whimpers that Rachel wasn't too sure of.

"Quinn, that—" Being shoved onto the bed broke any type of thought train that Rachel owned. She looked at Quinn indignantly, "You know, just because I let you do the things you do doesn't mean you get to be rude."

"Stay still and let me fuck you." It sent chills down her spine. Quinn was never like this with her. She was typically more teasing than anything. She would ghost around rather than making firm movements. She would laugh at her in a tantalizing way, rather than the spiteful chuckle at how scandalized her face looked. "Get naked for me Berry."

"A nice 'please' would possibly incline me to lose my top." Quinn simply smirked fiendishly and ripped her top open, ignoring the suprised gasp from her friend and lathering kisses on her chest and stomach. Her pants were gone before she could remember who Barbra even was. "S-Shit!" Let it be known that Rachel didn't like swearing, but in that moment Quinn's face was absolutely buried in her crotch.

"Mine." Rachel swears she hears it being said, but maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her.

"What was that?"

Quinn only paused for a breif moment, before possively biting her neck. "Just stay quiet and let me fuck you."

/

"So, I have a script I think you'd like—that you'd better love—and I'd appreciate you taking time away from sexting my ex to read it."

"Sexting?" Quinn looked amused, "Wish I'd thought of that before texting my mother."

"How is Judy fairing?" Jesse looked at her with actual interest at where she tapped at her phone, lounging on her couch lazily.

"Oh, you know, she's dating a Gynecologist she met at Walgreens." Quinn's mother was a woman with needs—much to her distaste. Ever since the divorce, the woman had bedded more people than Puckerman in his prime. Quinn'd like to know how she had ever let herself be with a man like her father in the first place.

Quinn sent off a text, silently thanking her manager for the idea.

**Me:**

**I'm thinking about last night. You were so hot riding my face.**

"Free check ups?" Jesse asked, hands on his hips.

"The works." She drawled, glancing at the script that had been laid infront of her, on the coffee table. The first few lines seemed well enough, but the title had her snorting, "_Living With Vampires_...what, am I doing Disney now?" Quinn looked back to her phone, looking at the message.

**Rachel:**

**God, you're so lucky I'm in my room.**

She smiled, biting her lip.

**Me:**

**Then I don't see why you aren't touching yourself.**

"Its Nickelodeon actually," he deadpanned, "Its just a simple little guest starring role..." He began to go off in a rant that would rival the same girl she was confident would be writhing by the time she finished. Speaking of which...

**Rachel:**

**Who said I wasn't?**

**Me:**

**Dirty girl, isn't Kurt home?**

**Rachel:**

**I don't want to talk about him while I have my hand in places**

Quinn giggled, only to get a stern look from Jesse. He sighed, knowing he had been drowned out.

**Me: Don't get shy now. I grew up fearing the wrath of God and even I can talk about your tight little pussy.**

"...Don't you like that Buffy brouhaha?" Quinn looked up at him sternly.

"How dare you even think to—" Quinn quickly typed out a message.

**Rachel:**

**God Quinn I'm so close already...**

**Me:**

**No time for that, your scarf wearing ex just insulted THE slayer.**

**Rachel:**

**Quinn Fabray how dare you leave me like this for a fictional character!**

/

Quinn did infact get the part and to celebrate they all went out for dinner. It was a tiny little bistro that Santana claimed had 'huge ass meatballs...if you're into that.' Rachel had been thankful for the vegan friendly items that happened to be on the menu and found herself scrunching her face up over the 'huge ass meatballs' that Quinn had taken a liking to.

"Honestly, Quinn, I don't understand how you can even..." Rachel trailed off as the girl in front of her scarfed down a smaller looking one. She scrunched up her nose and was silently grateful for the fact that Kurt had suggested booth seats to keep them separated.

Jesse grimaced, "I still call it a small victory, considering I got her in the 'Hottest Amateurs' section of any magazine."

"I enjoy my food. Sue me."

"Ugh, don't even mention her name while I'm eating these many calories." Santana hated that woman as much as she respected her.

Rachel decided to do a little pay back—slipping her heel off and placing her stocking clad foot on Quinn's calf. She teased it with the side of her foot, before bringing it up her leg. She eyed the now smiling blonde with an all too indifferent shrug.

"Something funny, Miss Fabray?"

"Yeah, I heard a joke from Santana over here." Quinn covered herself easily, despite Kurt looking skeptical. Rachel's foot simply traveled higher, using the sole to knead a naked thigh. Quinn thanked her affinity for dresses.

"Which one, the one with the blind guy, or the one with the burger?" Rachel almost snorted at how serious she was. Santana's jokes were the kind you'd hear from some rowdy men in a seedy bar.

"I'm curious to hear both." Jesse looked rapt as he sipped his water next to Quinn. Santana looked at him devilishly. Rachel's foot lightly pressed against a dampening pair of panties. She just as lightly, pondered if Quinn had a bit of a foot fetish...

Santana cleared her throat, "Ok, so a blind man is walking past a fish stand at a board walk, right?" Rachel smiled at where this was going. "So, he turns to the stand and says 'Good evening ladies!'" Rachel ground her foot in hard and Quinn grunted.

"I agree, Santana, that was not something I needed to hear before dessert!" Kurt furrowed his brows, not noticing the flushed blonde he was agreeing with. Rachel bit her lip and giggled, lessening the pressure, only to let it grow.

Quinn stood up with a squeak. "I need to use the restroom." She gave Rachel a pointed look.

"If you insist..." And with that they both took off for the bathroom.

Kurt scrunched his face up in their direction, absently twirling his fork. "They wouldn't...would they?"

Jesse shrugged, "Got anymore jokes, J-Lo?"

Santana smirked, "Actually..."

/

Lips crashed against each other as they entered the one stall bathroom. The door was locked and Quinn was against it, Rachel kissing her hungrily. She let her tongue mingle with Quinn's, hands on a surprisingly firm but round ass. Quinn broke away, gazing at Rachel haughtily.

"Don't give me that look, I'm still very angry about the other day." She humphed at the laugh she got in response. "Quinn, I don't—" she was shut up by a kiss.

Quinn then placed lips by the breathless girl's trained ears, "_Can we fast forward till you go down on me?"_

"Yale really did wonders on your musical tastes." Rachel scoffed, but fell to her knees regardless. She ran hands up smooth thighs, caressing them, savoring the feel. She moved her sights to wet panties, licking the crotch. She got a very imaptient whimper and with a smile she pulled them down, and all but dove into a pool of wetness.

"God, I love your face." Quinn wasn't much of a poet. She was a hands on type girl. She let her hands run through Rachel's hair as the girl sucked on her clit like it was a lollipop; tugged when she let her teeth graze it as fingers entered her. She was almost ashamed at how Rachel could make her hump her face like a pornstar, but in the end her toes curling within the confines of her boots made everything worth while. "So, good...swear to god you deserve a medal."

"I'll settle for a bit of reciprocation later, but if you really want..." Rachel curled her fingers as she dragged them in and out of the girl panting above her. She looked up from under her lashes to find that one hand hand left her scalp to pinch at stiff nipples through the fabric of her dress. Rachel made sure she thrust in especially hard when Quinn began to twist them.

"Fuck, Rachel I'm almost there..." She muttered, and Rachel began sucking on her clit harder. Quinn grumted and groaned above her, walls tightening, but not the vice grip she knew was coming. "God, I'm gonna cum—gonna fucking cum, Jesus!"

Rachel used her teeth to lightly bite her swollen clit and pumped her fingers accordingly to make Quinn follow through on her chants. "Come for me, Q." Rachel watched as Quinn arched off the wall, head thrown back and mouth wide as she came undone. "Feel better sweetie?" Rachel teased, before she lapped at her still spasming pussy.

Quinn could only whimper in response.

/

"Who even comes up with these jokes?"

"My jokes are quality!"

"A guy who cries and masturbates at the same time being a 'tear jerker'?"

"Look who decided to come back!" Kurt announced as the two red faced girls sat back down. Quinn was surreptitiously content, despite her flushed cheeks and Rachel didn't only seem anxious, but Kurt was sure her hair wasn't that fluffy when she had gone to the bathroom.

Santana looked at Rachel and held back a loud cackle, "Whats with the shiny lips, Berry?" Quinn's eyes immediately looked towards said mouth and for once Rachel herself was almost speechless.

"Lip gloss," Rachel licked her wet lips, and Quinn swallowed, not even blinking. "Its actually very sweet."

Santana _did _in fact cackle and Kurt looked at Jesse who was still pondering Santana's crude humor.

/

They lay together in Quinn's bed in her tiny loft. Rachel had time off from her _Seussical_ rehearsals. Quinn had been skeptical of there even being a Dr. Seuss themed play, but was happy that her friend had gotten the role. It was yet another time that Rachel found herself in Quinn's arms after sex. Quinn's breath hit the side of her neck rhythmically, while her hand traced patterns on her stomach.

Rachel eventually spoke, "I swear you and these rehearsals are gonna wear me out."

"I'd nurse you back to health," Quinn kissed her cheek. "I can fit Santana's old Candy Striper uniform." She teased lightly, as she began thinking of the way things went the last time the Latina had it on.

Rachel groaned, "God, as if I could handle her wearing it..." Rachel had no problem admitting her roommate was attractive. She'd just never say it to her face. She looked at Quinn who had the same look she'd had a few weeks ago. The look in her eyes that made them a dark forest-like green. "What?"

Quinn suddenly kissed her hard, pinning her down by holding struggling hands above her head. Rachel groaned into the kiss, doing her best to turn her head away. Quinn simply went towards her neck, leaving the same harsh bites from that day.

"Quinn, please explain to me w-why you believe, you can j-just—" She gasped at the thigh that connected with her center. She let her hips move against it, although her brain was begging her to see reason and pull away. Her libido wanted to ride the blonde like a damn pony.

Quinn kissed her naked breasts, her muttering sending a vibration. "Santana will never make you feel like _this_...""

Rachel was too far gone to argue.

/

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"I suppose."

"I am your friend, despite the..._benefits_."

"I know."

"So...you'd tell me if you wanted to stop..._this_?"

"Do you want to stop?"

"Not right now...I enjoy our arrangement."

"But...?"

"I'm gonna have these hickeys for weeks."

"Can't handle a little rough love?"

"Quinn..."

"...I'm sorry."

"Apology *_yawn_* accepted."

"Go to sleep, Berry."

/

Quinn liked to hum. She would hum different things—often something for whatever show Rachel happened to be doing—and this one Rachel wasn't sure she'd heard before. She hummed it in the cab as the five of them (her, Quinn, Santana, Jesse and Kurt) went to a gay bar that promised free drinks.

Santana had scored a bar tenders number recently; Rachel had been less than interested in the redhead the girl picked up at Starbucks instead of getting her coffee, until Santana sighed.

"Look, she was actually checking you out." Santana had handed Rachel the slip of paper with a phone number and a smiley face, four days ago. "For whatever reason, she wants up on it."

Rachel had swatted the Latina's arm and pushed the paper back into her hands, "I don't need you to set me up Santana!"

Santana rubbed her arm and rolled her eyes, "If you're not up for it and would rather stick with Q—"

"Quinn and I are simply friends who so happen to have sex. She doesn't get to decide who I do and don't let around me."

"Whatever you say..." Santana wondered if this was worth the possible free drinks.

/

"Do you like Rachel?" Santana remembered back even further to around a week ago. She had been shopping with her bestfriend—who was acting even weirder than usual—and had been looking through racks of clothing when Quinn had spoken. The blonde looked at her coyly, hands behind her back.

Santana saw right trough it, but played along nonetheless, "Excuse you?"

"Just answer the question, San," Quinn huffed, leaning tensely against a wall.

"I mean, she's got a rockin' bod and a killer bed, but..." Santana shook her head. She didn't even wanna go there right now. "I can't say it goes any deeper than that. Did that satisfy the green thing on your back?" She asked as she continued searching for something to match the heels she had just bought.

"It was just a question." Quinn defended, walls threatening to go back up. Santana paused again, looking up with wide eyes.

"Oh, god, does Berry wanna jump my bones?"

"No!" Quinn was quick to defend, but still unsure. "I don't think...I don't know. Maybe?" She looked down at her feet and Santana internally sighed, not wanting to deal with Quinn-Rachel drama, but at the same time feeling for the obviously distraught Quinn infront of her. A Quinn that was unusually vulnerable looking—it made Santana's head hurt. What was it about Rachel Berry?

"Please, as if I could pry her off your leg long enough." Santana scoffed, "She's all yours, Fabray." Santana swears her eyes looked the most conflicted she'd ever seen them since Sophomore year of high school.

/

Present Santana was once again looking at Quinn. She watched from her spot in the cab, seeing them hold hands and Quinn smile—like _really_ smile—in a way she hadn't even realized she was capable of. She noticed how Rachel held Quinn's hand too. Quinn whispered into the brunette's ear and Rachel promptly gasped and punched her arm. Quinn simply giggled.

"Its fine to have your kinks, Rach."

"You don't see me telling the world about your little foot fetish!"

"I-I do not!"

"Well, I don't like you anywhere near a place that I make bowel movements from."

"When you say it like that..."

"You're an ass, Quinn Fabray."

Santana snorted; she didn't need Rachel Berry, to know _that_.

/

Rachel was almost immediately shoved towards the bar, due to Santana's growing impatience. She was met with curly, red hair and brown eyes that were a lighter shade than her own, that looked at her as if she was already bigger than Barbara. She nodded and winced in greeting, considering how tight Quinn began to grip her hand.

"You ok, there?" Rachel looked at the blonde whose eyes went from the red head to her. Her hand felt clammy and she looked a little sick.

Quinn nodded stiffly, "I'm quite fine, really." She looked once more at the red head, then went off somewhere in the direction of Jesse.

Santana fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead smiling at the bar tender, "So, Rachel this is Phoebe, Phoebe, Rachel." Santana gestured between the two, sipping on some type of brown liquor she seemed to have acquired quickly.

"You have gay father's obsessed with the show as well?" Rachel quizzed, leaning against the table.

"Bisexual mom, but close enough." She joked, and Rachel could practically _feel_ Santana leering over them.

She carried on nonetheless, "Someone else who doesn't think its ridiculous to name a child after someone from a well known series." She said with a wave of her hand. Her fathers had even odder names originally. Did she even look like a Roseanne?

"Tell me about it," She rolled her eyes, "But hey, at least she was cool. And you know, Rachel Greene was pretty hot."

"Oh?" Rachel leaned closer, watching eyes darken to bedroom status. Very interesting.

"I'd say you live up to your namesake pretty well." Rachel blushed, wishing she could call upon some of her inner Fanny's wit. This girl was quite the charmer.

"I'd have to whole heartedly agree, and might I return the sentiment—eek!" Rachel jumped at the sensation of her butt being pinched. She looked to the stoic looking blonde next to her. "Quinn, what is—"

Quinn shushed her, "Bathroom, please?" She nodded her head in a different direction. Rachel didn't move. "Look, I need to say something, ok?" Quinn pleaded with a jerky gesture with her hand.

Rachel could only excuse herself to placate whatever was going on in Quinn's fragile head.

/

Rachel realized very quickly that they weren't in a bathroom when the door opened and cool air hit her face. The dark sky and cold air were almost foreshadowing in a way; predicting the inevitable something that was obviously plaguing Quinn. Rachel looked at her uneasy friend and watched as she looked timid as she ever had in her life—or at least since Rachel's known her.

Rachel licked her lips, finding them dry. Quinn didn't look as if she would start talking anytime soon, so she took action, "Quinn, are you—"

"Are you ending this?" Quinn's voice was small, vulnerable, and Rachel was freezing.

"W-What?" Rachel's brows furrowed, watching as the blonde slowly began to unravel. Had she drank anything during her chat with Phoebe?

"Are you, you know...interested in her?" Oh. Rachel supposes it was innocent enough.

"I mean, I suppose she is a rather lovely girl from what I could tell..." Quinn scoffed and Rachel recoiled, only to bounce back, "What, does she not meet your standards?"

"She's only in it for sex, you know?" Quinn spoke with a quiet venom in her words, but Rachel could only remain indignant. "You can tell by the way she looks at you." She seemed disgusted—almost protective, like she was doing someone a favor, as she stood over the tinier girl. Rachel couldn't believe the hypocrisy.

She glared at Quinn. Something within Rachel's resolve snapped and her voice became as cold as the air that blew around them, "Then I guess it won't be anything less than what we have." She didn't regret the words coming out, as much as she wished she had said them at a different time. Watching those eyes deflate killed a bit of her soul.

It was quiet for a moment, with nothing but the sound of people and cars around them. Rachel fought the urge to flinch at whatever hateful thing—that she may or may not deserve to hear Quinn would retort with. Only nothing ended up being said. Quinn just stared at the ground with her sad eyes and all Rachel could do was watch what words had already done.

Her spiteful ways and pride wouldn't let her do anything more

Quinn bobbed her head in a nod, "I...I'm gonna head home...you know, I got a gig for a Cheerios commercial, ironically enough." Quinn gave her a forced laugh. Rachel felt whatever anger she had be overcome with her need to please. Right now she was trying to figure out why all this was happening. It was too cold for this—too out of the blue.

Rachel hugged her shivering body and finally sighed, brows furrowed as she looked at the blonde, "Quinn, wait, I'm just...rather short, and albeit a bit confused."

Quinn stopped, only slightly turning her head, "About what?"

Rachel didn't even know where to start. So, she went in head first, "Why do you care so much, I mean, this could be your chance to finally find someone to fall in love with."

Quinn faced forward, walking away again, muttering to herself, "That's exactly why I care so much."

/

Rachel didn't go home with that girl, but she did arrive to her apartment as dead, useless weight for Santana to lug around. She was more than a bit drunk. It was reasons like these that she didn't date bartenders and why she tended to shoot them down—she swears Santana just wants her to use her appeal for free drinks—and strayed towards those in her line of work. Phoebe hadn't understood the plot for Chicago.

She would never allow herself to be with someone as such.

Or at least that's what she told herself between images of hazel eyes and words that her brain couldn't currently comprehend. So, she drank until her head stopped screaming at her and nothing existed except for stuff she wanted to think about. She wanted to think about someone—anyone else.

She was pretty sure she'd be sharing a bed with Santana. Part of her wondered if that meant the rough sex Quinn had been giving her would come with more vigor. Then there were more little flashes of sad eyes and footsteps and she was too exhausted and inebriated to think about it too much.

The lack of movement from her phone was proof that she needed to leave things be.

Santana had cuddled up next to her, before speaking solemnly, "No more free drinks?"

"No more anything." Rachel answered, slurring her words in a way that was all too fitting.

/

When Rachel closed her eyes she couldn't help but recall the last time her and Quinn had sex. It was a terrible thing to be thinking about at a time like now, the liquid courage in her veins over ruled her judgement. She remembered the way Quinn looked at her.

She should've seen it coming.

Rachel had finished ranting about Santana trying to set her up with the very same girl she had met at Starbucks and had tried to set her up with.

Rachel layed on her bed, head on her pillows and against the head board. She openly groaned, "Its not like I can't find my own possible suitors. Even if I haven't been on any dates lately, but that doesn't mean I need her help."

Quinn had been sitting on the side of the bed listening. She crawled over to her, leaning over her body, slowly lowering her neck until their lips touched. It was a soft touch of the lips that Rachel wasn't used to. "You, Rachel Berry, are absolutely wonderful," Quinn whispered and connected their lips again. When they parted Quinn smiled, "And you certainly don't need help getting someone to like you."

Rachel looked into Quinn's eyes and saw something she couldn't place at the time. "You're sweet, but—"

"But nothing," Quinn interupted. She cupped Rachel's cheek, "Let me take your mind off Santana and remind you how amazing you are," She kissed Rachel with more pressure, but not rough. Not even passion, but something Rachel hadn't felt before.

She was slow, letting her hands trail down to Rachel's hips, storking them softly. It was odd to simply kiss Quinn and not have her naked and dominating her. To have those once skilled hands suddenly become almost shy as they inched her shirt off. Those lips that teamed up with teeth to mark her neck and send her flying higher than any star were simply leaving soft pecks on her jaw down to her pulse.

Rachel jerked her hips, needing more, "Quinn, please..."

The blonde seemed content to continue her minstrations, only pausing to grip Rachel's keening hips. The pressure of Quinn's firm hands had Rachel whimpering, wishing those hands would travel to where she truly needed them. Quinn chuckled against her collar, all too aware of what Rachel wanted.

A chuckle turned into a whisper, "I'm gonna go slow, ok?" Rachel groaned out her fustration, so Quinn amended, "I just—tonight I want you to see that I mean it when I tell you how wonderful you are."

Rachel had been too preoccupied by Quinn finally removing her shirt to detect the not at all foreshadowing subtext to her words. She barely thought of it, when Quinn kissed down her chest slowly, eyes linked with her own the entire time.

Quinn let her hands move from Rachel's hips to behind her back to swiftly undo her bra clasp. Rachel knew not to take the sudden freedom in her hips for granted, letting Quinn do whatever she wanted to do to her.

Even if most of it were slow kisses that had her head reeling. Quinn was typically to the point, not really kissing her at all once her shirt was off. Kisses were saved until the end, as a show of reassurance, or when Quinn wanted her to taste herself after giving her particularly good head.

Quinn had kissed her sweetly as her jeans and panties were finally removed. Rachel whimpered when Quinn moved, for she missed the feeling of Quinn's body against her when the blonde settled between her legs.

Quinn smiled and crawled back ontop of her, "Miss me, Berry?" Rachel flushed, but remianed silent; as if refusing to give her the satifaction, that Quinn clearly already grasped. Rachel could look into her eyes and see she was plotting something, "Are you ready?"

Was she ready? Looking back she thinks she may have changed her answer, "Yes, just—please do something?" Quinn smiled sweetly, deciding to simply let her hands pretty much massage the place her underwear really shouldn't be right now. Still, Quinn teased her.

It wasn't until her panties were finally on the floor that Rachel realized something was off. Quinn hadn't broken eye contact, and seemed content to gaze at her like she was the only one in the room—only she _was_ the only one in the room, but still—like she was important.

Quinn softly cooed at her when she whimpered at the first light touches to her clit. "Shh, I promise to give you what you need," She kissed her lips. Quinn kissed her tenderly—something she never did.

Quinn has said so many things with a kiss: sorrow, resentfulness, angry, indifference, laziness, playfulness. Nothing compared to the way Quinn had her lips mashed onto hers as she slowy inched a finger inside. The fact that even after it was done, she'd continue to simply kiss her cheek, her head, her nose—which was almost innapropriote considering the two fingers buried inside her.

Her hips desperately rocked into Quinn's slow moving fingers, trying to chase an orgasm that was fast escaping. "Q-Quinn, faster...please?" Her pleas were silenced by a kiss. Her advice didn't go unheard, for Quinn sped her thrusts, even adding harder flicks at her clit with her thumb. Rachel groaned at a particularly hard one, nails digging into Quinn's back.

"Its ok, Rach, you'll get their soon," Quinn assured, letting her fingers curl. Her head dipped down to latch onto one of Rachel's stiff nipples, sucking softly, only to flick it with her tongue and switch sides. Once Rachel had started clenching Quinn's flexing fingers, she pulled her head away.

"Quinn, I think I—"

Quinn pecked her, "I know, I can feel you." She sped the motions up on her clit, and Rachel's eyes had closed. "Look at me, Rachel. I want you to look at the person making you cum." And she did. Rachel had pried her eyes open and stared into Quinn's now dark amber eyes and—

The point is—Quinn's actions said what words couldn't. And in present time as she lay in her drunken haze, she realizes that that final orgasm told her this was coming. Right down to their final passionate kiss.

/

Quinn can't say she truly ever hated Jesse St. James. He was a decent enough guy, who was hanging from his damn scarf on a coat rack in the closet, but she supposes she can admire him. He wasn't afraid of really anything, except maybe during those times when he's fighting for her to get auditions and he makes that face that says he's desperate and he knows she can do it. Jesse was a constant.

Rachel was a very independent variable. Except unlike anything they'd teach you in class, she was very capable of molding herself. It scared the crap out of Quinn and she swears she felt less nervous during her first audition. It scared her how she didn't have much control. It scared her that she had gotten what she wanted.

Rachel loved her. She knew good and well that she did. Maybe not exactly in love (as she may or may not be, but who ever knows) but Rachel cared and loved so much that it made Quinn feel almost too special. Something that Quinn never felt like she deserved. She was a small town belle from Ohio, who was bound for nothing but the cliche.

Why does Rachel waste time on her?

Angry texts from Santana told her that Rachel didn't go through with whatever could've happened with that girl. Quinn felt guilty, even though she was sure that the feeling in her stomach was more of relief than anything. She was selfish.

She was in this to pin Rachel against walls and have someone to fuck, to make feel. To give her passion and rage to someone who's known nothing but it. Someone who she knew would look at her the same way no matter how much she let herself get lost in her own head.

Right now she craved Rachel's touch.

She hated herself a tiny bit more when she found herself at their door.

/

Rachel awoke with arms around her. It wasn't Santana. She typically liked to be the little spoon, for reasons of which were beyond her (but good black mail material nonetheless). Santana's touch didn't feel this way. She managed to open her stinging eyes to alabaster skin and small, dainty hands that ruled out Kurt, but the memories that rushed back and made her groan in pain, made it hard to believe it was Quinn.

"Morning, drunk-y." Rachel could hear the laughter in her voice. She held out her palm silently and was relieved when Quinn gave her pills. She needed something to dull the pain and Quinn's budding humor. "You know, I came looking for something else, but Santana gave me the update on how things went before-ah...before I left."

Rachel squinted her eyes, letting the cruel light adjust them accordingly. She'd rather be aware for this. "I don't suppose you wanna talk?"

"I'd rather not cause you stress when you're feeling bad enough." Quinn watched the girl look at her curiously. Her face was still sleepy and her eyes red, but Quinn did know this needed to be done.

"Not knowing, well, no—not understanding why you left is killing me more."

A breath.

"I love you."

It was out there now. It kinda just hung there, like a sloth from a tree. Things were slow and Rachel was finally awake.

"Quinn—"

"I'm not like—in love, but I do like you a lot." She amended quick, but not too quick. It left the possibility of more without speaking. It was something she tended to do often. Rachel almost smiled at how shy Quinn looked. Still so much hesitance lay within her, despite everything they'd gone through—including seeing each other naked—if her rosy cheeks had anything to prove.

"I like you too, Quinn, I thought I would've given hint to the fact that I do...its just neither of us has been very...willing." She trailed, letting Quinn run a hand up her arm. She kissed her lips.

"We've both been very willing," Quinn quipped, only smiling when Rachel's breath hitched. She loved watching her squirm.

It was silent again and they simply let themselves be. Rachel snuggled into Quinn's neck, hand resting on her collar while Quinn had an arm around her torso, softly stroking a shoulder. Rachel's head had stopped completely spinning and she kissed Quinn's neck once. She felt her throat work and prepared for words she knew the blonde struggled for.

"I need you. A lot." She spoke, fingers slightly trembling where they lay on her stomach. She breathed, and Rachel watched her, letting her move slow. "I hate it when you talk about how hot your roommate is, when you go out on those dates, or bond with other girls on how weird your names are."

"Quinn—Lucy for that matter, are very obscure names as well, if that makes you feel any better," Rachel said with a smile, making Quinn hum absently. Rachel bit her lip, "I only did those things just in case we didn't work out—and to appease my father's over the phone Jewish guilt—but none of those things ever meant much. None of it was enough to make me end our arrangement."

Quinn began rubbing her shoulder again. "I don't want to not be with you." She said softly, as if the walls weren't thick as steel. "But...I don't want to ruin you. I've never been in love before. I'm not sure I know how to do this, other than the typical asking you out and eventually going steady." She finished sheepishly, looking down into Rachel's eyes in question.

Rachel was smiling. She was always smiling. "I'd love to go steady with you, Quinn." She would've pounced on the girl if her body wasn't still mush. She settled for a long kiss that had them both giggling.

"When did we become adult Brittana?" Quinn laughed, remembering the not so distant past of them going through something similar—albeit with more drama.

Rachel shrugged, "I'm not quite sure, but is there anything really wrong with that?"

"They broke up..." Quinn muttered sheepishly, looking away from the brunette in her arms.

"Hey, Quinn?" Rachel cupped her cheek. She watched the doubting green overcome the gold of her eyes. Rachel grabbed her hand. "Hold my pinky." And she did.

She was content to simply lie there once more, but another aspect of that relationship began to _arouse_ her thoughts. Really, what other way to seal the deal than...

"How about hangover sex instead?"

* * *

**A/N: I'm a tad iffy at the ending, but I suppose it turned out all right. I didn't want an unhappy ending, and I didn't really want to rush them either, but I also didn't want this to be too long. I hope whomever chooses to read this—despite all the other Faberry week fics that may be written better and actually done in a timley fashion—likes it the way it is. **


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